


A Fae-te Worse than Death

by romanticalgirl



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Fae & Fairies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4510404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's fae and stuck in Chicago. Ian loves boys and fighting. Ian meets Mickey. It's a match made in fantasy-land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fae-te Worse than Death

There are rules.

Ian knows this. 

 

Ian doesn’t care.  
That’s not entirely true. He cares until he ends up in Chicago – whatever or wherever that is, stupid fairies, never fuckin’ trust ‘em – and looks around the park. It’s run down, barely any trees, which makes it perfectly useless for Ian’s purposes. He’s about to find someone in the local network to send him back when he hears fighting.

Ian _loves_ fighting.

He moves toward the edges of the park and it’s dark and seamy. Dark and seamy is very much not what Ian’s used to, which means it delights him to no end. There are boys – tall boys, short boys, thin boys, thick boys, burly boys, girlish boys. Ian leaps up into one of the trees and looks down, looks around. Boys boys boys. 

Ian might love boys more than fighting.

He hears the fighting again, closer than before, and he turns his focus back to that, skimming across tree branches until he spies the culprits. Three boys beating on an older man – kicking, punching, warning – and the man drunk enough that Ian’s pretty sure he doesn’t need his extra-sensitive nose to know it, even from the distance. 

Two of the boys walk off and the third one – stocky, muscled, broad, solid – leans down over the older man and spits in his face. The streetlight hits the boy’s hair and it’s dark as midnight, hits his eyes when he looks up and they’re blue as the sea.

Ian’s pretty sure it’s right then he stops caring.

He runs over branches from one tree to another then drops down to the ground, not far from the boy. He doesn’t make a sound, but something alerts the boy to his presence and he turns around.

He’s beautiful.

Ian wants him.

**

Mickey turns around when he hears the soft hush of footsteps like someone sneaking up on him. He told his brothers to fuck off because he was going to finish this beat down all by himself. Frank Gallagher had fucked with the wrong people. 

Even more than usual.

“The fuck are you?”

The guy – shaggy red hair that glints, eyes Mickey can’t quite see, and a mouth that Mickey fantasizes about. Or would, if he let himself fantasize about such things. 

“I’m Ian.” Ian – apparently – takes a step forward. “Who are you?”

“You ain’t from around here, are you, kid?”

“I could be.”

“You’re hanging around the edge of the park where the faggots come to find someone to get off with and you look like you’re the twinkiest twink that ever fuckin’ twinked. And you’re talkin’ to me. Which means you ain’t from around here, or you’ve got a death wish.”

“Would you kill me?” Ian tilts his head and looks at Mickey intently. It’s eerie. Something about his eyes – a swirl of color that Mickey shouldn’t be able to see, but somehow can. 

“Depends. You gonna keep asking stupid fuckin’ questions?”

Ian smiles, and _fuck_ , Mickey’s not going to have a choice about fantasizing about that mouth. He bites his lower lip and tries to look away. Ian’s smile is ridiculous and dorky and endearing and mesmerizing. “Probably.”

He walks forward, closer to Mickey. “Who is this?”

“A dumbass deadbeat fuck up who’s lucky he owes someone enough money to make it worth it to keep him living.”

“What’s his name?”

“You _really_ aren’t from around here.” Mickey shakes his head. “That’s Frank Gallagher.”

“Frank. Gallagher.” Ian says the words like he’s rolling them around in his mouth, trying them on for size. “I’m his son.”

“You just asked me his fuckin’ name and you expect me to believe you’re his son?”

Ian nods and leans in and, from where he’s standing, he shouldn’t be able to touch Mickey, but somehow he does, tapping in in the middle of the forehead. His voice is dreamy, or maybe Mickey’s dreaming.

“Yes.”

**

“I suppose you want help hauling his ass home?”

Ian tilts his head. “Do you like to fight?”

“You mean beat down on someone?” Mickey looks over at Frank as if to answer Ian’s question.

“No.” Ian frowns. “For fun.”

“I mean, I don’t know. I like fighting. I’m good at it.”

“Are there fights?” Ian smiles. Mickey can’t look away. Ian likes it. He’s not even trying. “Can you show me?”

“You don’t look like you could last a round.”

Ian laughs and Mickey’s eyes darken. Ian will have to be careful. The memory touch is nothing. A necessary evil. It fades slowly, so by the time Ian’s gone, no one will remember he exists. “I want to watch you fight.”

“And why would I do that?”

Ian smiles and steps closer. He can feel Mickey’s heartbeat speed up, can feel his own body react. Ian maintains the appearance of a boy, but he can adapt. His body shifts, fills out. He loves his natural form, the breadth of his body, the solidness, the weight heavy between his legs.

He doesn’t know why he knows that this boy is the one, but he does. “Because you like to win. Because you know you can win. Because you want what it can bring you.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey jerks his chin up. “What’s that.”

“Money.” That’s always the right answer, no matter where or when Ian is. He watches Mickey’s eyebrow rise and Ian takes the opportunity to rake his eyes over Mickey.

Oh yes. He’s perfect.

**

Mickey doesn’t get this Gallagher kid. Doesn’t give a shit about Frank – not that Mickey blames him for that – and knows he’s proposing they form some sort of partnership. “Gallagher, you lost your fucking mind?”

“No.” He smiles and fuck if Mickey’s dick doesn’t react. That’s the last thing Mickey wants or needs. Getting a hard-on for a fucking Gallagher. Getting a hard-on for anyone is something he does his best to keep from doing, but doing it for some pale, freckled... Jesus. Mickey’s fucking _hard_. He doesn’t ever remember the Gallagher kid getting to him like this before.

“You’d be good at fighting. We could make money.” Ian steps closer and Mickey bites his lip. “I want to see you fight. For real. Not against him.” He points to his dad. “Someone real.”

“Your dad’s a fucking pussy.”

Ian steps closer, one finger trailing down Mickey’s arm. “But you’re not.”

Mickey fully intends to tell Ian to fuck the fuck off and never touch him again, but instead he nods toward the street. “There’s a place. Other side of town.”

“We’ll go there.”

Mickey can’t help the skepticism in his voice, but he wishes it were actually stronger. Wishes it were believable. “And I’m going to fight for you.”

“Not for me. You’re going to fight. I’m going to take their money. And then we’ll split it.”

“And why exactly would I share with you? I mean, let’s be honest here, Gallagher, I could kick your ass without even trying, so maybe I deserve all the money.”

“But I’m going to drive the odds up.” Ian smiles wickedly and Mickey has the overwhelming urge to shove Ian against the tree and fuck Ian’s mouth with his tongue. Which is _not_ something Mickey does.

Ever.

“I’m going to get them to bet against you.”

“ _Against_ me?”

“Mm-hmm. And then you’ll win.”

“And we split the cash.”

“Sixty-forty.” Ian is closer than Mickey remembers him being and Mickey’s pulse is thudding thick and hot beneath his skin. 

“All right.” Mickey holds out his hand. Ian grabs it and shakes it and Mickey has to bite his lip hard, bracing his knees so they don’t give way. “It’s a deal.”

**

Ian nearly groans. So much heat and energy and fire. He wants to drink Mickey in. Mickey’s handshake is firm and tight and Ian has to close down his thoughts so that Mickey doesn’t see the images flooding Ian’s head. “Lead the way.”

Mickey takes Ian down a dark alley. Ian can sense things lurking just out of sight, but he knows nothing will touch them. It’s easy to tell that, other than the portal guardian, he’s the most powerful creature on this plane. It takes several miles of walking, before the get to a decrepit building that’s falling apart and condemned. Ian’s memory spell spreads out from Mickey like ripples, touching everyone so that Ian is part of their collective subconscious, so that they all have a memory of him that’s faint enough to be the real thing.

“Put your name in,” Ian murmurs to Mickey. He smooths his hand down Mickey’s back and Mickey nods. Ian’s never had anyone respond like this without enchantment. Mickey’s thoughts are like ripe fruit Ian can pick out of the air – peaches of want, cherries of need. 

Mickey goes over; swaggering in a way Ian knows is natural. He turns away as Mickey leans against the table and focuses on the crowd.

“Ian!”

Ian’s eyebrow goes up and he heads over to the boy who called him. “Hey.”

He wraps his arm around Ian’s shoulder and Ian gets the flood of words and images. Philip. Lip. Brother. Rival. Second. Always second. Ian narrows his eyes, but Lip is laughing. 

“Should have known you’d show. Never could resist a fight.”

“Next up – Gallagher and Milkovich. Bets in ten.”

Ian smirks, wide and satisfied. This is going to be fun.

**

Mickey sees Ian weaving through the crowd, and everyone seems to be listening to them intently. Most of them make their way to the betting table and the odds go up, making Mickey’s eyes widen. That many people think Lip fucking Gallagher is going to kick Mickey’s ass? Mickey shakes his head. That ain’t gonna happen. Ian’s the last one to place his bet, and the guy is looking at him like he’s crazy.

Someone rings the bell and Mickey faces off against Lip in the ring. Lip’s bare-chested, so Mickey strips down until he’s got his shirt off as well. He can feel Ian looking at him and he can’t help glancing over. Ian smiles, full of promise and mischief. Mickey grins back then turns to Lip. He cracks his knuckles in the time just before the bell rings again.

**

Ian sits on one of the rafters as he watches the fight. It’s easy enough to get up there without being seen, so he perches above and looks down, his hands curled around the wood. 

There’s a rough, thumping sound every time flesh hits flesh. Lip reacts more, but Mickey sounds solid. Every hit goes straight to Ian’s groin, Mickey’s thick grunts filling him with heat. 

Lip holds out, putting on a good show until he flags at the end. Mickey moves in and it’s over. Not that Mickey lets up until Lip cries uncle. Bad blood between the two is really more than Ian could have asked for. 

An embarrassment of riches. 

Ian alights behind the betting table and smiles as he collects the money. They won’t be able to hit this fight again, but now Mickey’s got a taste for blood, but there will be another fight somewhere. Ian knows that. There’s _always_ another fight somewhere. A girl comes over to help Lip, so Ian nods to Mickey and they make their way outside. 

“Where can we go?”

Mickey looks Ian over and chews his bottom lip. “I know a place.”

Ian smiles. It shouldn’t be this easy with no magic guiding it. It’s never been this easy, even then. “I’m all yours. Let’s go.

**

Mickey leads the way to an unfinished and abandoned block of apartment buildings. Ian looks around like a little kid, like he’s going to bounce off the concrete walls. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been here before.”

Ian waves his hand, dismissing the statement. “Is this your place? Where you go?” He steps closer to Mickey. “A private place. You’re showing me.”

Mickey doesn’t get why Ian’s so fucking thrilled about Mickey bringing him here. It’s a fucking abandoned building and there are hundreds of them around Chicago. They’re nothing new. But Ian’s right. It’s his place where he goes to escape his dad and his life. But right now it’s just a safe place to count their winnings.

Ian sits on the roof cross-legged, a delighted smile on his face. He pulls a wad of bills out of one pocket then pulls one out of the other. Mickey sinks down on his knees across from Ian. “Holy shit.

Ian laughs and unrolls both of them, spreading the money out between the two of them. Mickey watches him count it, laughing as well as Ian finishes with the three thousand between them.

“Holy shit.”

Ian puts his hands on either side of Mickey’s face and leans in close. Mickey knows he should shove him away, should tell Ian in no uncertain terms that he’s not gay, that Ian had better back the fuck off. Instead his breath speeds up and heat curls through him. Mickey _wants_ Ian like he’s never wanted anyone before. Ian leans in closer and runs his tongue from Mickey’s jaw to his eyebrow. “You’re bleeding.”

Mickey turns his head slightly, gaze locked on Ian’s mouth. The tip of Ian’s tongue pokes out from between his lips, red with the hint of Mickey’s blood. Mickey doesn’t kiss. He’s done it twice in his life with the first two girls he fucked and it was the grossest thing he’d ever done other than actually going _down_ on a girl. He’s never kissed a guy. Only fucked a few in juvie. But Ian’s mouth is wet and red and his lips are parted.

Mickey moans and then his mouth is against Ian’s. Ian’s tongue takes over, fucking past Mickey’s lips. It’s nothing like the kisses Mickey’s had. Nothing close to the wet sloppiness of the two girls. It’s hot and hard and aggressive and the next thing Mickey knows, Ian’s hand is cupping the back of his head, his body pushing him down, laying Mickey out on the ground.

Ian moves between Mickey’s legs, weight pressing down against him. His cock is hard on Mickey’s, and Ian’s hips match the rhythm of his thrusting tongue. 

“Oh fuck,” Mickey gasps as Ian breaks off finally. He thrusts up mindlessly. He’s never been this hot, this hard. “Ian. Please.”

**

Ian’s head is swimming. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he can see tracers beneath his eyelids. Tasting Mickey’s blood was a bad idea, too close to bonding them, but Ian couldn’t resist. A compulsion, like an imp was in his blood pushing him. Mickey’s blood was hot and sweet. If Mickey hadn’t kissed him, Ian would have had no choice but to do it.

Begging from Mickey’s lips sets another match to Ian’s blood, his need. His fingers dig into Mickey’s hair, tips pressing hard to the scalp. He uses his grip to tilt Mickey’s head and expose his pale throat. Mickey moans as Ian’s mouth closes on his neck, teeth and tongue, biting and sucking. Ian’s overwhelmed with the salty taste of sweat.

“Yes,” Ian breathes against Mickey’s damp skin. Mickey shivers, whining low in his throat when Ian pulls away. Ian jerks his shirt off and tosses it aside before reaching for Mickey’s, trying to get his jacket off at the same time. Mickey scrambles to help him and, as soon as possible, Ian gets his mouth back on Mickey’s body – neck, shoulders, collarbone, nipples.

Mickey writhes beneath him. He arches and grinds against Ian, wrapping his leg over Ian’s calves. “Fuck.” Mickey’s voice is a harsh rasp. “Fucking...please. Need you inside me. Please.”

Ian shifts back and pulls Mickey into a sitting position. Mickey undoes his jeans and shoves them down with his boxers. Ian manhandles him onto his hands and knees even though Mickey goes easily. Ian can hear the soft split of skin as Mickey’s fingers and kneecaps scrape against the concrete.

Ian grips Mickey’s ass, spreading the cheeks. He licks a strip from the base of Mickey’s balls up over his hole. Mickey moans roughly. Ian blows a warm breath over the skin. Mickey’s breathing hard, and Ian can hear every hard swallow. His tongue flicks over Mickey flesh, licking and brushing him with it before he pushes it past the tight rim of Mickey’s hole. He keeps curving his tongue and rubbing the tip of it against the sensitive skin inside Mickey, feeling the pulse of Mickey’s blood pounding in time with Ian’s own.

Mickey’s head drops forward and his whole body shakes. Ian pulls back when Mickey’s body is quivering uncontrollably, his ass wet from Ian’s mouth. “You want me,” Ian growls.

“Fuck me. Get...get your cock in me.”

Ian’s happy to oblige.

**

Mickey comes apart.

Ian’s cock is huge. More than Mickey’s ever had, ever taken. He can’t help moaning. Can’t stop. Ian doesn’t prep him beyond the spit, but he pushes in slow and even though there’s a hard burn and stretch, it feels fucking amazing. His breath is hot on Mickey’s back and then his neck as Ian gets deeper. Mickey feels the money beneath him, cushioning his knees, and it drives another spike of something through him as Ian starts to move.

Mickey’s arms tremble and he lowers himself to his elbows, ass higher in the air, the angle different and harder as Ian shifts off Mickey’s back and grips his hips.

“Like a vise around my cock.” Ian’s panting, and his words are a fucking aphrodisiac, setting Mickey’s blood on fire, his nerves sparking like a box of matches. The sex is hard and deep, fast but not frantic like the bathroom and back alley fucks Mickey’s used to. It feels like Ian learns him with every thrust, makes every moment tailored to shatter Mickey into a million pieces. 

Suddenly everything explodes and implodes and goes supernova. In the back of his head, or wherever his brain has gone, Mickey knows what’s happened, that Ian’s hit his prostate, but it’s never happened before and Ian doesn’t stop.

The only thing holding Mickey up is Ian’s fingers digging into his hips. Mickey’s head is on his arms and he’s panting open-mouthed, wordless, silent.

Ian’s talking, gibberish words that Mickey can’t parse, and then suddenly he’s coming, filling Mickey with slick heat that feels like it sears through him like a brand. 

Mickey’s not sure if he’s crying or sweating or both when Ian pulls out and gets Mickey on his back. Mickey feels money sticking to him, concrete abrasive against his back, Ian’s come thick inside him. Ian’s eyes are hot, the same impossible swirl of colors as when Mickey first saw him. He’s still talking, a foreign language Mickey doesn’t understand. And then Ian’s mouth is on his dick, and Mickey abandons all pretense of conscious thought.

**

Ian barely registers what he’s saying, the fae words falling from his tongue until Mickey’s dick is in his mouth, hot and swollen and leaking. Ian’s broken another rule, four bodily fluids is bonding, locking Ian into this form and tying him irrevocably to Mickey. He can still find someone to send him home – even the fairies weren’t as cruel as to send him somewhere he couldn’t get back from – but all Ian wants right now is Mickey. Is more.

He sucks hard, cheeks hollowing. The heat of Mickey’s dick, the raw weight of it, makes Ian take him deeper, burying his face in the sweat-musk scent of Mickey’s pubic hair. Mickey’s hands scrabble across Ian’s head, nails digging into his scalp. Ian pulls off of Mickey with a wet pop then takes him in again as deep as he can. He thrusts three fingers in Mickey’s come-slick hole, easily finding the sweet spot again.  
Ian barely touches him before Mickey’s coming, thrusting up into Ian’s mouth. Ian sucks and swallows, dragging his fingers out to get one last desperate thrust from Mickey, one last jerk, spill of come. He pulls off again, and Ian doesn’t think, simply pushes his fingers into Mickey’s mouth. Mickey sucks on them hard, his tongue snaking between them to lick them clean.

Ian slumps then, resting his head on Mickey’s thigh. His eyes close as Mickey’s fingers card through his sweaty hair. Mickey sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

“Mm.” Ian picks through Mickey’s thoughts and memory to figure out what the words mean and then he smiles. “Good?”

Mickey laughs and blows out a breath. “Best fuck I’ve ever had.” His fingertips graze over the nape of Ian’s neck. Ian shivers and turns his head, kissing Mickey’s hip. 

“Me too.” Ian knows all the right things to say, all the words to make sex and money work for him. But he realizes that this time it’s true. It’s unnerving.

“You did all the work.”

Ian lifts his head and frowns. “No. Good sex is both of you, of us.” He crawls up Mickey’s body and braces himself over him. “You were tight and hot and so responsive. Didn’t want to come so soon. Wanted to last, stay inside you.”

“Might have killed me if you’d done that.” Mickey’s eyes are half-closed, hooded and still hot. “So. Money turns you on, huh?”

Ian laughs and lowers himself down, bare skin against bare skin. “You do. Hot and sweaty and bloody. Midnight eyes. Wanted to fuck you the minute I saw you tonight.” He grins. “Of course, the money doesn’t hurt.”

**

Mickey wakes up in his bed. He doesn’t remember how he got there. He only knows the perfect pain in his ass, the thick feeling of Ian’s come still slick inside him, the hard wad of money in his jeans pocket.

His muscles ache in other places, the hits Lip got in no doubt bruised, some swollen. He closes his eyes, wondering where his pain pills are rather than trying to figure out how he got home. It seems like he’s more likely to figure that out than the other.

“The fuck’s your brother?”

Mickey groans at the sound of his dad’s voice and forces himself out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom. He’s careful not to look in the mirror as he opens the medicine cabinet and swallows two Vicodin dry, choking them down while he takes a piss.

His dad has half a six pack in front of him, but there are five empty cans on the floor and one in Terry’s hand. “Hey, pops.”

“About fucking time. You take care of Gallagher last night?”

Mickey freezes a moment before realizing his dad’s talking about Frank. “Yeah.”

“You leave him for the faggots?”

“Yeah. Edge of the park.” Mickey grabs the cash he’d gotten from Frank and pulls it out of his pocket. “Just got his check, so he actually had something on him. It’s shit compared to what he owes, but it’s something.”

Terry counts the $500 twice then pockets half. “Jake’s not going to like this fucking piss-ant amount. You’re going to have to do monthly beatings. Teach that fucker a lesson.”

Mickey’s been waiting for the day that Jake actually gets wise to or fucks Terry up for skimming, but maybe brute force is a saleable commodity and, unless someone bigger came around, Terry is as brute as you can get.

He considers mentioning the fight scam to Terry, but the two thousand dollars he’d woken up with – better percentage that they’d settled on – was his and already hidden away. Besides, he doesn’t want Terry to focus on Ian as a way to get more out of Frank. Even though Ian’s a Gallagher and everyone knows him, Mickey still feels like Ian is his, something somehow untouched by south side dirt.

“You need me to take care of anything today?”

“Get some goddamned beer from the fucking towelhead. Stronger shit too. And get some fucking food.”

“Gonna take care of some shit while I’m out.”

“Bring my shit back first. Almost out of booze.” Terry belches and reaches in his boxers, scratching his balls. “Then you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Okay, pops.” Mickey goes into his room and grabs clean clothes, heading into the other bathroom to shower. He doesn’t know why he’s bothering. It’s not like hygiene is his fucking priority. But the thought of Ian’s mouth and tongue all over his skin makes him scrub himself clean for him, wanting it to be Ian’s hands all over him. He jerks himself off in the shower knowing that if he doesn’t, he’ll probably combust the second Ian touches him.

Of course, he’s got no idea where Ian might be and, even if he’d been able to casually stroll up to the Gallagher house before, he sure as fuck can’t after beating the shit out of Lip. 

Mickey pulls on a tank top and a pair of jeans, tugging on his jacket as he heads toward the door. Terry lets out a loud snore as well as a vile smelling fart as Mickey walks by. He’s glad to shut the door behind him. Even though his dad’s passed out, Mickey walks to the Kash and Grab. He stops outside not sure why the hair on the back of his neck is standing on end. Kash is a complete pussy, so he knows it’s not that. Mickey shivers then pushes the door open.

“Hey, Mick!”

Mickey stops just inside the doorway when he sees Ian behind the counter. “What the fuck, Gallagher?”

**

Ian grins and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Working.”

“You work here?”

Ian shrugs. He’d given Fiona most of the money from the night before when he’d seen the house. When he’d walked by the market he’d gone in just to see if anyone knew him. The man behind the counter had immediately given Ian a look he knew well. He’d used a simple charm on him, masking it with a smile.

“I work here now,” Ian had told him and he’d nodded. Walking behind the counter, Ian put on an apron and the man – Kash – had walked upstairs. Ian’s spell had spread to his wife with the addition of letting her know the thoughts Kash had had about Ian and taking them for the truth.

Ian had smiled. All too easy.

Now Mickey stands in front of him, confused until the memory spell expands from Kash and Linda. “Work here now.” His eyes rake over Mickey hungrily. “Lock the door.”

Mickey does it automatically, moving toward Ian.

“Back of the store.” Ian strides ahead of him, turning to grab Mickey and press him against the glass wall of the freezer. His hand goes to Mickey’s crotch, palming him through his jeans. “Hard for me.”

“Yeah. Yes.” Mickey arches into his hand. Mickey skims his hand down Ian’s side, pulling him closer. “Want to taste you.”

There’s no reason to say no. Mickey’s sucked come off of his fingers, licked sweat from his skin, sucked saliva from his tongue. There’s no chance of the last fluid, so Mickey can’t be tied to Ian, even with Ian’s attachment to him. He leans in and bites Mickey’s lower lip. “Do it.”

Mickey sinks to his knees and Ian unties his work apron so he can tug it over his head. Mickey undoes Ian’s jeans and pushes them along with his boxers down Ian’s thighs. Mickey groans and wraps his hand around Ian’s shaft, stroking him from ridge to the base. “Fuck,” Mickey breathes against him. “Your cock. Fuck.”

Ian moans as Mickey swallows him down. He takes him in stages, in inches and Ian pounds his fist against the glass, holding himself back. Mickey’s eyes are dark, nearly black when he looks up at Ian. Tears glisten in the corners and his mouth is stretched with his lips pulled tight and blanched white. 

Ian mutters under his breath in his native tongue, a wish for strength, for endurance. Mickey hasn’t even started yet really, and Ian already feels like he’s on the edge. Mickey swallows, throat constricting and then he starts to move. His mouth stays tight as he pulls back, leaving wet, sensitive flesh exposed to the air. 

Mickey’s teeth are covered by his lips as he gets to the head, anchoring his mouth at the ridge then sucking hard before licking the head with flat swipes then tonguing the slit. 

Ian’s head falls back and he closes his eyes even though the last thing he wants to do is look away. He keeps the sight of Mickey’s hollowed cheeks in his mind, his blue eyes bright with tears. Mickey’s mouth is too hot, too much. Ian drops his head forward again and looks down just as Mickey sucks him deep again. 

Ian whimpers, doing his best to hold back the sounds he’d made last night, the low enchantment he hadn’t been able to keep in. The area around the abandoned building is no doubt completely overgrown now with a thick carpet of flowers thanks to Ian.

“M-Mickey.” Ian reaches down, holding the back of Mickey’s head to keep him against Ian, feeling the breath from Mickey’s nose hot on the base of his dick, the wiry red hairs. Ian can feel Mickey’s throat, feel Mickey gag as Ian thrusts in hard and deep. “Close. So close.”

Mickey’s hands slide up Ian’s thighs to his ass and squeeze. Ian’s hips jerk and he comes hard, thrusting into Mickey’s mouth until he’s spent. Mickey pulls off and licks his lips, looking up at Ian who reaches down and tugs Mickey to his feet. Mickey’s jeans are bulging and he groans in relief as Ian undoes them and wraps his hand around him.

“Your fucking hands.” Mickey groans. Ian tightens his grip and strokes Mickey. It only takes a few rough strokes before Mickey is coming, his hips angled toward Ian, his shoulders pressed hard against the freezer door. Ian doesn’t give Mickey a chance to breathe, pinning him with his whole body and kissing him hard.

Mickey’s breathing roughly when Ian pulls away. “You up for another fight tonight?”

“I’ve got to take some shit to my dad, then I’m all yours.”

Ian smiles and traces Mickey’s lower lip. “You’re all mine already.”

**

Mickey drops the beer and vodka that Ian lets him take at the house. His dad is passed out again or still so he doesn’t stick around. He heads back to the Kash and Grab and sits on the edge of the delivery platform and wonders why he doesn’t hurt any more, though most of his time is spent smoking cigarettes and watching Ian. 

He doesn’t know what it is that made him actually see Gallagher finally – his mop of hair, impish grin, sparking and sharp eyes. Mickey’s not sure how he _missed_ him all this time. He takes a drink of the beer Ian had brought him from the fridge and watches Ian joke with a customer, flirting with her. Ian flirts with them all, so self-assured. Heat coils in Mickey’s stomach and he wants to gear up for the fight by smashing their heads in and telling them to stay away from Ian. 

Mickey drains the beer and regrets the loss of the taste of Ian in his mouth. He throws the bottle onto the pavement, listening to it shatter as he gets to his feet and saunters into the store. 

People look up and their whole demeanor changes when they see Mickey. He goes to the cooler and takes two bottles of beer in each hand. Everyone is pretending they’re not staring at him except for Ian, who’s smiling. “What the fuck you smiling about, Gallagher?”

“Thought I saw something funny.” Ian licks his lips and Mickey has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from striding over and grabbing Ian, kissing him until both their mouths are swollen and sore. Instead he flips Ian off and goes back to his seat. 

Kash comes down a few minutes later, pussy-whipped and hangdog. It doesn’t stop him from looking at Ian and, as he walks by, it seems like his thoughts crash into Mickey’s head. He growls at the thought of Kash kissing Ian, touching him, getting fucked by him. Surrendering to Ian.

Just like that the thoughts are gone, but Kash is still looking at Ian. Mickey doesn’t need to read Kash’s mind to know what he’s thinking. Rubbing his fists over his thighs, all Mickey can think about is how much he needs a fight tonight. He needs to work out all the anger pulsing through him, the desire to strangle Kash, to smash his pedophilic face into the fucking pavement.

Ian’s smiling and it’s the only thing that feels like it’s calming Mickey down. It’s like Ian knows what Kash is thinking and it amuses the hell out of him. "You ready, Mick?”

“Yeah.” He pushes past Kash roughly. Ian says goodbye, still smiling. Mickey walks next to Ian with his hands shoved in his pockets. “That asshole wants you.”

Ian smile widens. “So?”

“You look pretty fucking happy about some asshole twice your age wanting to get in your fucking pants.”

“He can want all he wants.” Ian bumps Mickey’s shoulder. “I want someone and something very different.”

Mickey looks over at him, and his gut twists with heat. Ian’s watching him and Mickey feels the same surge he’d had when Ian came inside him last night, when he swallowed Ian down.

“I’m going to picture his fucking face tonight when I beat the shit out of whoever I’m up against.”

The heat intensifies and Mickey has to look away. “Good,” Ian says. “I like it when you win.”

**

This time Mickey fights someone with a good foot in height and about fifty pounds on him. It’s easy to get people to bet against him. Ian can feel the anger and jealousy radiating off of Mickey. He can see the same look on his face that he’d had when Ian let Mickey in on Kash’s thoughts, making sure it was clear that it was what Kash wanted, not what he and Ian had done. Every hit Mickey lands is fueled by it. Ian can feel the hot pulse of Mickey’s blood in his veins and Ian’s cock hardens.

The solid sound of flesh on flesh and breathless grunting has Ian pushing his thighs together, wanting pressure and release. He wants his dick buried in Mickey’s ass. He doesn’t use a spell or manipulation, because Mickey’s close. He’s keyed up and connected to Ian enough that he’s able to feel Ian’s touch. 

The knockout comes and the guy falls to the ground at Mickey’s feet. His limp and sweaty body is immediately covered in dirt, and Mickey’s bare back glistens in the dim light. Ian alights from his vantage point and works his way to the betting table. It’s a much bigger payout and Ian pockets it before he walks out of the warehouse. He waits in the nearby alleyway for Mickey. Mickey comes out about fifteen minutes later, pausing in the doorway to light a cigarette. Ian watches him and sees the four guys following him. He can tell from the set of Mickey’s body that he knows they’re there, but he doesn’t react until one of them grabs him and whips him around.

“Where’s your partner?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The other one. The one that bet on you. Know you’re fucking working together.”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about. I just came here to fight. And kick your buddy’s ass.”

“Yeah?” The biggest one takes a step closer to Mickey. “How about you see if you can kick our asses.”

“I only fight for money. And it sounds like you don’t have any of that.”

They start to surround Mickey. It’s hard for Ian to have an effect on non-living things, since his powers are based in nature, so he focuses hard above everyone’s head and blows out all three of the nearest streetlights. As the light bulbs explode, he darts in between two of the guys and grabs Mickey’s hand so he can pull him toward the alley.

Ian pushes Mickey into a recess in the wall, holding him tight against the door. He grins at Mickey and fits his body between Mickey’s spread legs so they’re pressed together. He holds a finger up to Mickey’s mouth. Mickey rolls his eyes, but Ian knows he’s on edge, adrenaline coursing through him. Mickey’s cock is hard against his, and Ian can’t help rocking his hips forward. Mickey bites his lip to keep quiet, and Ian leans in, biting the side free of Mickey’s teeth. A sound catches in Mickey’s throat.

Voices echo down the alley and then everything is quiet. Ian rolls his hips harder and Mickey struggles to breathe, to keep the sounds from falling from his lips. “Quiet.” Mickey’s eyes narrow, but Ian just smiles and reaches between them to undo Mickey’s jeans, inhaling sharply. “Naked.”

“Save time.”

Ian laughs softly, ignoring Mickey’s huff of annoyance when Ian lets him go. Ian undoes his own jeans and gets his dick out, wrapping his hand around both of them. Mickey hums low and presses his forehead against Ian’s shoulder. The barely-there sound of his breath is loud in Ian’s ears, sounding like abandon. Surrender. His palm slides against Mickey’s hot skin. “Feel so good.”

“Th-thought we were being quiet.” Mickey’s voice is low and rough, breaking as Ian tightens his grip, stroking slowly and watching Mickey’s head fall back. 

“Said you needed to be quiet.” Ian laughs then bites and sucks on Mickey’s lower lip. “Like the noises you make too much though. Like hearing you.”

He thrusts into his hand, dick sliding against Mickey’s. His hand brushes over the head, palm sticky as he slides it down again.

“Ian,” Mickey gasps his voice raw. His head falls forward onto Ian’s shoulder then he rises up to suck on Ian’s neck. “Want…fuck. Close.”

Ian releases his own dick so he can grip Mickey tighter. Mickey chokes on his breath and comes hot in Ian’s fist. He pants against Ian’s throat and Ian takes his dick back in hand, stroking it along with Mickey’s until Mickey’s begging him to stop, his whole body shaking with overstimulation.

Ian growls low, something deep inside him needing, wanting. His bond to Mickey aching in his chest. “Kiss me.”

Mickey obeys. His mouth opens for Ian and Ian owns it, fucks it as Mickey completely falls apart, as Ian’s come coats them both. Mickey’s knees give out and he sinks to the ground. Ian follows him down, pulling Mickey into his lap.

**

Mickey’s whole body is numb. Not from lack of feeling, but from feeling too much. All of his senses have shut down in self-defense. He shivers in spite of being unable to feel. 

“Okay?”

He burrows closer to Ian. He knows he should be worried. No matter that they’re hidden. This isn’t the place for them to be together. Mickey’s got no desire to be bashed, especially since right now he’s completely incapable of putting up a fight.

“Hey,” Ian whispers. “You okay?”

“’s long as I only have t’ breathe.”

Ian smiles and brushes his fingertip down Mickey’s nose. “Sleep.”

Mickey’s beginning to get freaked out by waking up in places he doesn’t remember being. He can hear Ian whistling something melancholy somewhere in the distance. Mickey staggers to his feet, realizing they’re back at the abandoned apartment buildings. He sees Ian across the roof and walks over to him, turning around and sitting with his back to the wall next to Ian. Ian stops whistling and leans his head on Mickey’s shoulder.

“That was pretty. Kinda sad.”

“It is sad. It’s a love song.”

“Love songs are sad?”

Ian takes Mickey’s hand and threads their fingers together. “Can be.”

“How’d I get here?”

He can see Ian’s smile out of the corner of his eye, and it’s as sad as the song. “I broke the rules.”

“What rules?”

Ian laughs. “All of them.” He digs in his pocket with his free hand. “Winnings.”

Mickey stares at the huge wad of bills. “Holy shit.”

“Nine thousand. Big payoff.”

“Holy shit. No wonder those guys wanted my ass. Did you take your cut?”

“It’s all yours.”

“Why?” Mickey frowns at him and tries to catch Ian’s eyes, but Ian won’t look at him. “We had a deal. What’s going on?”

“You should use it to get out. You and Mandy.”

Mickey pulls his hand free of Ian’s. “What the fuck’s going on?”

“I got a message from my dad.”

“So? Who gives a fuck what Frank has to say?”

“Not…” Ian sighs. “You know the story of Peter Pan?”

“Peter Pan? What the fuck are you fucking talking about?”

“Magic.”

Mickey stares at Ian, seriously worried. “Did you hit your head?”

“My father found me. My real father.”

“Wait. Fuck. Frank’s not your dad?”

Ian sighs, blowing out a long breath. “There are rules. I’m not supposed to influence for my own material gain. I’m not supposed to use certain charms.”

“Charms? Are you fucking drunk, Ian?” Mickey’s got no fucking clue what Ian’s talking about because he refuses to make sense. “What’d you drink? Or take? Or smoke?”

“When did you first meet me?” Mickey frowns as it feels like something’s been pulled from inside him, a string unraveling.

“You’re the weird dude from the park, right?”

He smiles at Mickey and Mickey doesn’t understand the sadness in his eyes. “Yeah.   
That’s me.”

“You tell anyone we fucked, and you’re a fucking dead man.” Something suddenly coils back in Mickey’s chest and his eyes narrow. “What the fuck was that, Ian?”

“Magic.”

“Bullshit.”

“There are rules. I was supposed to find the host with the portal so I could go home. But then I heard you. Saw you. I could, fuck, I could feel the heat and anger and passion and need. It was reckless and desperate and it burned.”

“What the fuck did we take, Ian?”

“I bound myself to you. Saliva, sweat, semen, and blood. It set off alarms, and tonight we…” Ian blows out another breath. “Fuck, tonight I sent out a fucking beacon.”

“All right.” Mickey moves away, turning to look at Ian head-on. “Are you going to start making some fucking sense at some point?”

Ian sits up straight. He reaches out and traces Mickey’s jaw and brushes his thumb over his lower lip. “I don’t have a lot of time. He’ll be here soon.”

“Ian, I don’t…”

Ian replaces his thumb with a barely-there kiss. “There are a lot of rules, but only one cardinal one.”

Mickey shakes off Ian’s touch angrily. “Ian.” He doesn’t know what’s going on, but Ian’s tone is clear. 

Ian kisses Mickey again, deeper and harder. Mickey moans into his mouth and Ian’s tongue strokes against his. Mickey’s head fills with color – vibrant greens, sapphire blues, golden yellows. It’s real and unreal and Ian’s across from him looking not quite human.

Mickey jerks back, breaking the kiss and trying to catch his breath. “What the fuck? What was that?”

“Me.”

“You’re some sort of glowing fucking fairy?”

“No! I’m not a fairy. Fairies are mean, spiteful assholes.” Ian stops and takes a breath. “I’m a pixie. Basically like Peter pan though he wasn’t _actually_ a pixie. It’s a common misconcep…” Ian stops and swallows when he looks at Mickey. 

Mickey knows his eyebrows are up to his hairline, and he’s looking at Ian like he’s crazy, because that’s obviously what’s going on. “You’re a fucking fairy tale creature.”

“No. I mean…anyway. They’re coming to take me to the portal.”

“Why?”

“Because I broke the…”

“And why the fuck is a fairy in Chicago?”

“I’m not a fairy, but it’s their fault.”

“And are all fairies…fairies?”

“I am _not_ a fucking fairy! And I’m in love with you.”

“You’re in…We’ve know each other less than a fucking week! And what I _do_ think I know about you is apparently bullshit, because you’re not actually Ian Gallagher because you’re not actually human, which is what the fuck you’re supposed to be because fucking fairies don’t fucking _exist_!”

“ _I am not a fucking fairy!_. Ian yells before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “No. I’m not like you. I’m part of nature but not like a human is. I’m _of_ nature. But that means I understand myself and my emotions better. Quicker. I’ve tasted your blood, you sweat, your saliva, and come. You’re part of me now.”

“No, I’m fucking not.”

“You are. And I’m part of you.” Ian bites his lower lip hard enough that blood wells up on it. Mickey’s about to ask him what he’s doing when Ian is suddenly pressed against Mickey, mouth hard on his.

**

Ian moans desperately as Mickey kisses him back. Mickey’s tongue slides across Ian’s lip and the blood spreads. Ian tries to stick to a moral code – his own anyway – but morals aren’t something that comes natural to him, to his kind. He can see the moment the thread between them knots in Mickey’s chest, can see by the way Mickey’s eyes open and widen.

Mickey’s voice is a mixture of awe and fear. “What did you do to me?”

Ian’s ears pop and suddenly he and Mickey are on the ground outside the building and the portal is opening a couple of feet away from them.

“Holy shit. What the _fuck_?” Mickey takes a step back and Ian knows Mickey sees the regular man in front of him shimmering over the real form that steps through the portal.

“Mick, this is my dad. Real dad. Clayton. Hey, dad.”

“Okay. Sure. Dad. But what the fuck _is he_?”

Ian shrugs. None of this is going anything like he planned. “Like me. Not quite human.”

“No shit.”

“Ian.” His father’s voice is sharp and loud in the air, even though his mouth doesn’t move. “What have you done?”

“It wasn’t intentional!” Ian glances over at Mickey who is staring at them both in complete disbelief. 

Mickey rubs his eyes and glares at Ian. “Tell me what the fuck you gave me.”

Clayton cuts his glance to Mickey who freezes, caught in an invisible web, keeping him still and silent. “We’ve been lenient with you, Ian. Allowing you to break rules with no punishment, no repercussions since they were mostly innocent, benign. They were small rules. Minimal damage.”

“I haven’t done any damage!”

“You’re in love with this boy. This…human. You have bound yourself to him, and now you have bound him to you! What he has seen he cannot unsee!”

“I’ll stay here then.”

“You are not of here!” Clayton’s voice gets louder. “You have broken the cardinal rule. You are now banished back to our plane, and this boy will suffer because of your foolishness.”

“No!”

“You have as good as given him his mortal death.”

“Don’t!”

Clayton snaps his fingers and Mickey drops to his knees. Ian grabs his father’s arm and Clayton shakes him off. He walks over to Mickey and wraps his fingers around Mickey’s chin tight enough that Mickey’s skin turns white. “I should kill you for what you’ve seen.” Ian starts toward him, but Clayton holds him in place without looking back. “But what he’s done is even worse. Do you know what he’s done?” 

Mickey’s eyes are dark and sharp as he glares angrily at Clayton, trying to shake off his touch.

“No. You don’t. He’s given you sight. You will see your world and ours. You’ll see everything too bright, too much for your human brain and body. He’s bound you together. You will feel him always. He will know your thoughts, your feelings and you his. He belongs to you always. And when you fall in love with another, with a human, he will die.”

Mickey cuts his eyes to Ian and there is no difference in the way he was looking at Clayton. Ian shakes his head. “That’s not…”

“Blood, sweat, semen, and saliva. You are bound, Ian. You gave him blood.”

“What…” Both of them look down at Mickey, and Ian imagines his look is as astonished as his father’s. No one should be able to talk through the spell, through Clayton’s grip. Clayton releases Mickey and steps back. Ian thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen his father look afraid.

Mickey manages to get to his feet, though it’s slow and painful looking, as if he’s lifting the world on his shoulders. “What if I want it?” His voice is raw like he’s been screaming. Maybe he has.

“He is _fae_ , boy. 

“So?”

“He is not for humans.”

“You just said he made me not quite human.” Mickey’s shaking and Ian ignores his father, going to Mickey’s side and supporting him. Mickey does his best not to avoid leaning on Ian, but Ian can feel the weight, sharing it with him as soon as they touch. “And if you’re supposed to stay away from us, then why the fuck did he come here? Why do you have a portal here?”

Clayton steps forward and pulls himself up to his full height. “This, Ian?” His mouth curls into a disgusted sneer. “This is what you want? This is what you think is worth losing everything for? Rough? Brutal? This…flesh?”

Ian swallows and looks at Mickey. Now that Mickey can see him for what he is, now that they’re bound, he can see more, see deeper. He can see the shame and fear, the self-hatred and hope, the desire and confusion inside Mickey. “Yes. Him.”

Clayton reaches out and slaps the air in front of them. There’s a huge explosion of sound and then everything goes black. It feels like Ian’s being turned inside out, ripped apart, torn to shreds. When he can see again, he’s sprawled face-down next to Mickey. He turns his head and there’s blood dripping form Mickey’s nose to the ground. Ian crawls over to him and manages to sit up, easing Mickey’s head in his lap.

“Mickey?” Ian brushes Mickey’s hair back off his face. “Mick?”

“Your family sucks. Both of them.” He starts to get up, but Ian puts a hand on Mickey’s chest to keep him still. Mickey tries to bat Ian’s hand away so Ian fists it in Mickey’s t-shirt instead. Mickey closes his eyes, sniffing back blood. Ian keeps stroking Mickey’s hair with the hand not on his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? For which part?”

“Well, where do you want me to start?”

“You’re not Frank Gallagher’s son.”

“No. but everyone thinks I am.” Ian watches Mickey’s lashes flutter against his cheeks.

Mickey sounds resigned. “Magic?”

“Yeah. I gave you a memory – that I was his son. You filled in the blanks. Your mind came up with memories and thoughts, filled in my history. That became my story. Then it spread out like waves. I was real to you, so I existed for everyone, their minds filling in the blanks as well. But nothing could contradict your story. The master story.”

“And the money? The fights?”

“I steered the betting. You won on your own.”

Mickey opens his eyes, still so blue. “And us? I mean, do I really like you? Or was that magic too? And I can’t believe we’re having this conversation like we’re Harry fucking Potter?”

“I’ve used spells before to get what I want. I never did that with you.”

Mickey sits up and Ian lets him. The hard part is still to come, and Ian has to hope that Mickey’s willing to give him retroactive consent. “So this big, bad rule is you can’t fall for someone?”

“Love is…Love isn’t something we do, believe in. We’re mischief. Spite. Pranks and teasing and hurt feelings. Love isn’t…Pixies don’t _have_ love.”

“But you do.”

“I didn’t have it. I found it. The first night I knew something was between us. I didn’t care why I wanted it or what the repercussions might be. I wanted every taste of you. All of you. I…I wanted to always feel you. Have you after I was gone. You wouldn’t have known. Felt it.”

“But.” Mickey finally wipes the blood away with his hand then scrubs it on his jeans.

“He was going to make me leave and you’d be able to move on. Find someone. Fall in love.” Ian swallows hard against the thickness in his voice. “You’d forget me. That I existed, just like everyone else will when I leave here. So I bound you to me. The last requirement was blood and…and I didn’t have that right.”

“So I can just…feel you? Forever?”

Ian nods. “It’ll probably be weak. I’m not sure. And…and…” Ian rubs his face with both hands, his stomach roiling like a storm. “I’ve screwed you over. Shit.”

“How?”

“You heard him. You’re tied to me. If you fall in love with someone else, I…”

“You die? He said you die. But not, like, literally though.”

Ian looks at his hands. His fingers are long and tapered, the one clear sign of the fae that never changes. “That’s why he was angry. I’ve made you responsible for my life. And he…all time has shown that humans don’t…we wither. Die. Humans move on. Ruled by emotions.”

“So why’d you do it?” 

Ian can see that Mickey’s trying to understand, even though Ian knows it’s probably incomprehensible to him. He shrugs and meets Mickey’s gaze. “I knew. I wanted to be bound to you. I wanted you. I’ve never felt this before, but I knew what it was. And I only want that with you. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“There’s no fucking way.” Mickey’s voice is decisive, bordering on angry. “No _fucking_ way.”

Ian nods and gets to his feet. “I understand. Where you live. Who you are.” Ian nods and glances around frowning. The portal is closed and, for the first time since Clayton disappeared, Ian actually pays attention to something other than Mickey. Something cold and primal shivers through him and Ian starts to laugh, softly at first and then hard enough that he sinks down onto his knees.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Look around,” Ian manages to choke out.

Mickey does and shrugs. “What?”

“I gave you sight. What do you see?”

He shrugs again. “Nothing. Looks normal.”

Ian rubs his eyes roughly and slumps. “Me too.”

“Fuck.” Mickey throws up his hands and looks up to the sky before shouting. “Fuck!” He slumps with a rough exhale. “I don’t understand a goddamned thing that’s happened tonight. So pretend I don’t know what the fuck you mean.”

“I don’t have sight anymore. It’s gone. He took it.”

“He can do that?”

“Apparently,” Ian snaps, even though he’s not angry with Mickey. “Because he fucking did.”

“Don’t fucking yell at me. I’m not the one who pissed off the fucking fairy king.”

“We aren’t fucking fairies for fuck sake!” Ian gets to his feet and jumps up on a piece of concrete. He takes a deep breath and leaps upward, reaching for the lowest tree branch. He misses and lands on his feet on the ground, stunned.

“What are you doing?”

Ian turns and stares at Mickey completely horrified. “He took it all. Made me human.”

“Okay, that’s it. I need a fucking drink. Or ten.” Mickey turns and walks off without looking back. Ian hurries after him, careful not to touch him.

“Hey. Hey. Don’t be angry.”

“First of all, fuck you.” Mickey stops and rounds on Ian. “You lied to me. You did magic shit on me. You made it so I can fucking kill you by feeling shit and you made me g-“

Ian’s eyebrow goes up sharply, daring him, challenging him. He can’t process what his father did so he focuses on this because he can deal with it. It’s in front of him and tangible.

“Like you,” Mickey snaps. “You made me goddamned like you.”

Ian shakes his head. “Why is that so bad?”

“Because you’re not fucking real, Ian.”

Ian looks around and shoves Mickey back against the building. He pins Mickey to the wall with his hands tight on Mickey’s wrists and Mickey starts to struggle. Ian silences him by kissing him. Mickey immediately opens his mouth to Ian’s tongue, moaning around it.

Ian releases Mickey’s hands and grabs his hips and pins them instead so that Mickey can’t move. He grinds his body against Mickey’s, letting him feel how hard Ian is already just from this. “Do I feel real right now? What about when I suck you? When I fuck you?” 

“Christ, Ian.” Mickey drops his head back, exposing his throat for Ian. 

Ian scrapes his teeth over Mickey’s skin. “No fucking magic, Mick. Real. All real. And you fucking want it. Want me.”

“I don’t even…” Ian bites the junction of Mickey’s neck and shoulder. Mickey moans, his hips rocking against Ian’s hands. “I don’t even fucking know you.”

“I’m Ian Gallagher. Apparently for good. I’m him. All of those memories you created. You, Lip, Fiona. All of you. That’s who and what I am.” He sucks where he bit and Mickey’s hips jerk.

Groaning roughly, Mickey gets his hands between them and pushes Ian away. “Yeah? Well, if you know all that then you know this isn’t possible. There’s no fucking way we can keep doing this. People aren’t g...dudes aren’t into dudes, because if they are, they’re fucking dead.” Mickey rubs his lower lip with his thumb, refusing to look at Ian. “This...this shouldn’t have started, and it’s definitely got to stop.”

Ian wants to shake Mickey in frustration. “That’s not what you want. I know that. You know that. We can both _feel_ it.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you feel. And the only thing I know is that I want to live more than I want your dick.”

“We’ve managed so far!” Ian knows he sounds like he’s begging. “We’ll be careful. We...” He shakes his head. “Don’t...” He doesn’t know how the bond works, if it works, now that he’s human, but the way Mickey refuses to look at him makes him ache.

“I can’t.”

“What’s different? We were together when you thought I was human. Now I am. He took it away from me. Why...” Ian swallows hair, a flood of unfamiliar pains – emotions – flooding through him. “Please.”

**

Mickey chews his bottom lip. He has absolutely no clue what fucking alternate universe he’s stumbled into. Ian’s a fucking pixie and there’s a fucking fairy king, and now Ian’s not a pixie because he’s human because fairies are spiteful little bitches. 

“This is some serious Alice in Wonderland shit. And I still need a drink.” He moves past Ian careful to still avoid his eyes. “It’s weird and I cannot be sober for it.”

“I love you.” Ian says it so softly and his voice trembles. “What do I do with that? If you walk away? What do I do?”

Mickey closes his eyes and hunches his shoulders. Whatever it is that Ian did to them – this bond or whatever – is like a living thing in Mickey’s chest. Every emotion feels raw and painful and overwhelming, and he knows it’s all Ian that he’s feeling. He wonders what Ian’s getting from him. 

“Get over it.” He grinds the words out through gritted teeth because everything inside him doesn’t want to say them. Wants to say something different. Ian blinks and nods, managing a weak smile as he takes a step back.

“I’m sorry.” He turns around and starts to walk away.

“Hey!” Mickey isn’t sure what he’s going to say. Isn’t sure why he needs to say it, why he has to stop Ian from leaving. “The Gallagher house is that way.”

Ian stops and looks back at him. He shakes his head. “They’ll forget soon enough. So will you for the most part.”

“Ian.” Mickey walks toward him. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll find another portal like I was supposed to in the beginning. Find someone who’s strong enough to change me back or summon my father.” He shrugs. “Go home.”

“You can’t just leave.” Mickey’s chest tightens at the thought. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” He tilts his head and Mickey knows it’s an honest question. He knows that, whatever Ian actually is, what he’s feeling is completely foreign to him. Mickey doesn’t understand most of what he’s feeling let alone what Ian’s dealing with, but Ian’s sadness seems to settle on Mickey like a blanket, and sadness he does understand. “Do you think I should stay here and watch you? Make them watch me waste away?”

“You’re human now. That shit doesn’t happen to humans.”

Ian rubs his chest and Mickey has the overwhelming urge to do the same. “You don’t feel it?”

“Yeah. Of course I do. But that’s not permanent, right? It’s just right now. Everything. It’s not...you’re not a pixie anymore. You’re human. Things change. It’ll change, right?”

“For you maybe.” Ian shrugs. “It’s okay. It’s all my own fault anyway. You didn’t ask for this.”

Mickey watches Ian start to walk away again and something in his chest pulls tight. His head tells him it’s magic, subliminal influence, but the rest of him says something different. He closes his eyes tight and tries to listen to the parts of him he’s pushed down, beaten down, pretended don’t exist. “I don’t want you to go.”

Ian stops again and Mickey feels the burn of hope in his chest and he can’t tell if it’s him or Ian or them both. Ian looks at him with dark eyes. “You don’t?”

“No.” Mickey takes a step forward and all the tension seems to disappear as he gets closer to Ian, like the bond between them relaxes as they get near each other even though it feels tighter, stronger. “You know I don’t.”

“What d-do you want?”

Mickey laughs softly and bites his lower lip. He knows this is probably the worst idea he’s ever had in his life, but he can’t seem to care when he has this, has Ian. “You know that too.”

Ian nods and steps closer. “You love me.”

“Yeah,” Mickey answers even though it’s not a question. “And it’s real, right? Not magic?”

“Magic couldn’t create the bond. That has to be real.”

“This still can’t happen though. You. Me. Us. Not here.”

“It can. It already has. Not just the sex. This.” Ian gestures between them. “Us.”

“It’s going to get us killed.”

“Maybe. But so can a lot of other things around here.” Ian reaches out and his long, delicate fingers trace Mickey’s jaw. Mickey’s eyes close. It feels like magic, but maybe that’s because even now Ian is magic. Because shit like this doesn’t happen here. Doesn’t happen to people like him. Or maybe it’s just because Mickey wants to believe it can.

“How do we know this is real?” Mickey feels smaller than he’s ever been, more scared. Not weaker, but more vulnerable. Vulnerable for the first time in as long as he can really remember.

Ian smiles and it lights up his face. “How do we know it’s not? Do you know? When you’re human? Do you ever know it’s real?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Mickey laughs roughly. “I’ve never been in love before.” He realizes what he says in the instant before Ian smiles. It’s stupid because Ian already knows it, Ian already said it. “You’re such a manipulative little shit.”

“That’s pretty much the definition of a pixie.” Ian’s smile shifts, and Mickey can tell that, whatever Ian’s dad had done to him is wearing off. Ian’s not human anymore, maybe never was. Mickey knows about fathers teaching lessons. His father’s are meted out with fists, Ian’s with fear. But now the way Ian’s body eases as he changes back is like the weight’s lifting off his shoulders. Mickey can see light shimmering at the edges of his own vision, though it’s not as intense as it was. “You had to admit it. That’s why it’s come back.”

“And this is what I have to live with now, huh?”

“Yeah.” Ian glances around and Mickey follows his eyes. There’s no one around, like no one in the world knows this spot. Mickey smirks at Ian’s raised eyebrows and hopeful expression. 

Rolling his eyes, Mickey jerks his head. “Come on, asshole.” Ian hurries over to him and matches Mickey’s pace as they head back up inside the building. “We’re not holding hands or any of that shit.”

“Maybe I don’t want to hold your hand.”

“Bullshit,” Mickey snorts. “You totally want to hold my hand.”

Ian laughs and bumps against Mickey’s shoulder. “I totally do.” Mickey fights his smile as he rolls his eyes again. “If it helps though, I also want to pound you until you beg for mercy and come until you black out.”

Something about Ian’s voice speeds Mickey’s blood and there’s a taste at the back of his mouth like he’s feeling Ian’s blood too. “I think I’d be alright with that.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Mickey grabs Ian’s hand and tugs him up the stairs faster. “I mean, if you insist.”


End file.
